


Blood in the Bayou

by BelladonnaWyck, raiast



Series: Tapetum Lucidum [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Anal Sex, Blood Drinking, Full Shift Werewolves, Human Will Graham, Knot sleeves, Knotting, M/M, Mating Bites, Mating Rituals, Murder, Murder Husbands, Public Sex, Rituals, Rough Sex, Werewolf Hannibal Lecter, Werewolf Mates, Wolf Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:27:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22150276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelladonnaWyck/pseuds/BelladonnaWyck, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiast/pseuds/raiast
Summary: Will could see it in the fine tremor that had started in the taut muscles that ran along Hannibal’s spine, in the way his fingernails werejust this sideof too long,  nearly tearing into the smooth stone he was draped across; Hannibal had a tenuous hold on his humanity, dangerously close to shifting before it was time.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: Tapetum Lucidum [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1594327
Comments: 23
Kudos: 171





	Blood in the Bayou

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hedonistconstant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedonistconstant/gifts).



> This was written with love at the request of the lovely and supportive Grantaire. Their prompt was: _Public claiming with bottom Hannibal and a human Will._

“Fuck, baby, you’re so goddamn tight for me,” Will groaned, the words nearly drowned out by the growls coming from below him as he pounded into Hannibal, his hips pistoning relentlessly into the man as he rested, bent at the waist, over the ritual altar of his people. Soon to be _their_ people. His pack. 

Will could see it in the fine tremor that had started in the taut muscles that ran along Hannibal’s spine, in the way his fingernails were _just this side_ of too long, nearly tearing into the smooth stone he was draped across; Hannibal had a tenuous hold on his humanity, dangerously close to shifting before it was time.

Tonight, under the pale glow of a full moon, Will would finally join Hannibal fully, their mating ceremony culminating in a ritual that would leave Will a werewolf, able to take either form at will, finally able to hunt with Hannibal and his pack. 

When Will had met Hannibal Lecter while working a case as a cop in New Orleans nearly three years ago, he never could have guessed where a simple case of trespassing would lead him. 

He leaned further forward, folding himself over Hannibal’s back, soothing down his heaving flanks as he mounted him, slowing his thrusts until they were deep and smooth, holding himself buried far enough inside that his balls slapped against Hannibal’s with a soft _thwack_. 

They both shared the role of aggressor in the bedroom, but Hannibal had very specifically asked to be the one taken in the public ceremony tonight. As the Alpha of his pack, it was practically unheard of for him to be the one who would be knotted, be it artificially or not, and Will was honored that his mate had wanted him so desperately, so deeply, that he’d practically begged him to fuck him in front of the entire group. 

“You need it so bad, don’t you, darlin’?” Will teased, some of his drawl slipping into his accent like molasses wrapping around the words. “Big, mighty Alpha gettin’ bred and mounted like a bitch in heat.” 

“I need them to see,” Hannibal’s voice was a low, raspy thing, the words thick in a mouth that wasn’t entirely human. 

Will imagined Hannibal’s fangs were coming in, teeth that were already wickedly dangerous in his human form growing longer, sharper. Will thought about how those fangs would soon sink into his flesh, seal his fate and their bond, and moaned.

“What’s that, baby?” Will nuzzled his face into the crook of Hannibal’s neck, mouthed at his ear. “What did you say?”

“I need them to see,” Hannibal repeated, forcing the words out louder, struggling to speak clearly. “That you - my mate - are first and foremost my equal. That I bend to you just as willingly as you bend to me.”

Will pressed his smile into Hannibal’s neck. “And you bend _so good_ for me, baby. Can’t wait to taste you, feel your teeth -” he gasped as his hips stuttered, dangerously close to release. The knotting sleeve that covered his cock dulled his sensation slightly, but it could do nothing to stop Will’s clever imagination, his mind spinning with the logistics of this ritual and his heart hammering with mounting anticipation.

Around them, Hannibal’s pack watched with rapt attention, a restless eagerness shivering through the air as they bore witness to their Alpha’s mating ceremony - an event long in the waiting, Will had been informed. Some of these wolves had followed Hannibal for decades. They were quick to ingratiate themselves with Will once they knew they could trust him - when Hannibal’s intention to court him had been announced.

It was said that much had changed over the decades. The size of the pack - soon to be an intimate dozen when Will joined their ranks - had both grown and shrunk over the years as members had come and gone. 

The lands they roamed had changed over the years as well, spanning from Hannibal’s birthplace of Lithuania and all across Europe, only migrating to the North Eastern United States around thirty years ago. It had been even more recently, a mere handful of years ago, that Hannibal had felt compelled to uproot them again, moving them to the fertile lands of the Bayou, their pack relocating to outside of New Orleans and settling in for what seemed like the long term. 

Never once, not in all of the long years Hannibal had been pack Alpha, had he considered taking a mate - had not, in fact, even come close to courting anyone before Will Graham. 

When Will had asked his future mate about that, Hannibal, in a moment of brevity that somehow also doubled as the most romantic moment of Will’s life, told him that there was no doubt in his mind he’d only been waiting for Will.

Will knew that Hannibal’s pack had been much larger, once; knew that a faction had grown restless and bitter over their Alpha’s fussiness, his refusal to mate. Will knew nothing about pack dynamics beyond what had been explained to him, but he knew that many members had viewed the lack of Omega in their ranks as a weakened tribe. 

One of the more aggressive of the discontented challenged Hannibal to a dominance fight, proclaiming that Hannibal wasn’t strong enough to run the pack if he couldn’t even take a mate. When Hannibal tore the wolf’s throat out - an act that sent Will’s blood racing to imagine - he quelled the disquiet by asking any wolf that felt the same to leave. Hannibal’s numbers dropped by more than half that day, and two years later those that remained with him moved to America.

His pack was loyal and didn’t dare speak out about his lack of mate again, but Will knew that curiosity and excitement had simmered amongst the ranks with growing anticipation when he’d entered the picture. They were so relieved at the prospect of their Alpha’s mating, so overjoyed to see Hannibal happy and infatuated with someone, that they didn’t even care that their Alpha had chosen a human. They welcomed Will with open arms, made him feel like part of the pack even though he couldn’t run or hunt with them.

And _God_ , Will wanted to hunt with them. With Hannibal. He wanted to watch his wolf run down their prey and tear it to pieces. Wanted to share a kill with Hannibal and then let his mate mount him, the blood of their prey still warm on their matted fur.

“Are you ready, darlin’?” Will panted; he reared up and increased the pace and force of his thrusts without waiting for Hannibal’s reply. “I’m gonna knot you now, Alpha,” Will announced loudly, and the pack around them let out a chorus of joyful howls.

“Yes, Will, do it,” Hannibal practically demanded, and Will didn’t need any further coaxing, slamming his hips flush to Hannibal’s ass and spilling hot and thick into him, the knot sleeve catching on Hannibal’s battered rim as Will forced it deeper, revelling in the gnashing teeth and feral snarls only growing louder from his Alpha. His mate. 

Will rested against Hannibal’s back for several long moments, flanks heaving as he collected himself. They still had more to do for the ritual to be complete, but he was sure Hannibal was exhausted, unaccustomed to taking so much, being so full. 

It was one of Will’s favorite things about dating a wolf. Hannibal had a knot, even in his human form, and Will was nearly addicted to the feel of it stretching him wide, forcing him to make even more space inside of himself, a hollow place only his mate could fill. 

Will looked up with a soft smile as the youngest pack member, a pup of barely nineteen, approached with the ritual goblet. A goblet that was full of the blood of every pack member, and which Will and Hannibal would be expected to consume in its entirety, taking in the combined essence and power of the pack to fuel Will’s transformation, to tie him to the pack. 

Hannibal stirred beneath Will, groaning as the knot shifted inside of him, less forgiving than real flesh would be. 

Will forced himself to pull back, the knot popping free of Hannibal’s sore, stretched rim with a satisfyingly lewd squelching sound, some of Will’s release trailing after it. Will relieved himself of the sleeve as soon as he was out; he wouldn’t be needing it anymore.

“We must drink, now, while the moon is still at its highest point in the sky,” Hannibal directed, straightening himself and looking just as regal, just as dignified as he always did. Even freshly fucked, the man was infuriatingly poised. 

Will nodded his understanding, lifting the goblet to pass it over to Hannibal, the golden metal glinting under the pale light that filtered through the tree limbs. They were deep in the Bayou, in a clearing where the tree coverage got thin, the moon able to penetrate through the topmost branches. 

“Are you sure, Will? Once the ritual has begun it cannot be stopped,” Hannibal checked in, his voice tinged with affection and concern. 

Will knew his mate was worried. Human to wolf transformations were highly uncommon, primarily because it was rare for wolves to mate with humans, but also because humans were frail creatures by nature, often unable to withstand the stress to the body that would come with the transition. 

If Will’s body rejected the blood, rejected the claiming bite of his mate, he would die. 

He stepped closer, wrapping his hands around Hannibal’s where they rested around the cup, the sharp copper tang of blood heavy on the air. A slight nod of his head and a look into Hannibal’s eyes was enough for the man to continue the ritual. 

The pup now handed them a ceremonial dagger, so they could add their own blood to the mixture, before bowing his head and disappearing back into the small crowd. 

Hannibal cut his palm first, letting some of his blood flow into the cup before the wound healed. He then took Will’s hand, placing the dagger, like an offering, against his palm. 

Will moved his own hand, using the motion to slice the skin, blood rapidly pooling at the surface. He turned it, letting it fall into the dark mixture, his own essence joining that of his pack.

He took the proffered goblet, making eye contact again with his soon-to-be Alpha, before bringing it to his lips and taking a long drink from it, draining his half quickly. 

The energy that pulsed through his veins was electric, reinvigorating like a direct shot of adrenaline. The effects were nearly instantaneous, his stomach cramping painfully even as his heart raced rabbit fast in his chest. His gums ached and his vision pulsated, his body already beginning to change, to accommodate the new blood flowing within him. 

Hannibal drank the remainder of the cup in seconds, sitting it carefully on the smooth rock altar before he was on Will with a viciousness that rivaled the aggressive, single-mindedness of his hunting. 

They hit the ground hard, the air forced from Will’s lungs as his back hit the ground. He wasn’t on his back long, just a brief glimpse of the star-filled night sky before Hannibal had him on his hands and knees, cock thrusting into him without preamble. 

Will scrabbled for purchase against the grass, claws digging into the earth as his fingers grew longer and the nails far sharper. He imagined if he could see his face right now that his eyes would be midnight-blue, nearly eaten up by pupil. His teeth felt crowded in his mouth as they too grew long, sharply pointed tips already pressing into his chapped bottom lip. 

Scents of the Bayou exploded to life around him, as though he’d never truly smelled the damp earth or brackish water before that moment. He could smell the nervous excitement rolling off the pack that paced around them, could smell the musky fur of those that had already shifted. He could smell his love’s pounding heart and rushing blood, tinged with a scent so heady and sweet that it could be nothing other than arousal.

“Alpha!” He shouted as Hannibal started up a grueling pace, his hips slapping against Will’s ass with each thrust. Will was practically dripping with lube - he could smell that too - the thick fluid dripping down his slicked thighs, having prepared himself prior to the ritual to help things run more smoothly. He was thankful for his preparedness now, as Hannibal took him fiercely and with no warm-up or reprieve; all animalistic need and a desire to claim his mate. 

To complete the ritual, Hannibal would need to bite him, would need Will to return the bite and drink his blood, directly from the source. To finish their _mating ceremony_ , Will would take Hannibal’s knot as well, a show of his fidelity and love.

It seemed that Hannibal’s intent was to move things right along and do both at once. Will could feel his mate’s knot already catching on his rim as Hannibal fucked into him, could feel Hannibal’s hot, ragged breath and too-sharp teeth dragging against his neck. 

“Do it, do it, do it,” Will chanted in grunts, barely aware that he was speaking at all until Hannibal’s fangs sank into the vulnerable flesh of his throat and broke through, and then he was screaming; a wail of twined agony and ecstasy as fire exploded in his neck and his cock pulsed with release for the second time in a matter of minutes.

Hannibal slammed home once more, forcing his knot into Will and spilling deep within him with a low growl. One of Hannibal’s thick arms wrapped around his torso then, hauling Will up and pinning him to Hannibal’s chest. The quick change in position tugged painfully at where they were knotted, but then Hannibal’s arm was extended in front of Will’s face and Will was moving with purpose, on instinct; he grasped the limb with both hands to keep it in place and clamped his mouth around it with as much force as possible. 

Will’s jaw ached at the pressure, but with Hannibal’s blood coating his teeth and tongue, his heart sang. His mate snarled at Will’s assault and spilled another load of seed into him as Will drank down his Alpha’s blood - the last component to the ritual as the flood of copper washed away the last of Will’s humanity. He released his hold on Hannibal and fell back down onto his hands as the stabbing pain in his stomach intensified. This was it; in a matter of minutes, Will would either be a werewolf or he’d be dead.

Despite the stakes, Will found that he wasn’t nervous. It was worth the risk, to have the chance at a long, full life with his mate. Plus, Hannibal had promised to eat him if he died, and Will couldn’t think of a better way to be honored, nourishing his mate and his pack.

He convulsed and clawed at the earth, surprised to see the deep furrows he left behind. He wanted to curl up into a ball until the pain ebbed, wanted to writhe against the ground until his too-tight skin finally split and shed away, but he was still tied to Hannibal, held in place. He was vaguely aware of the joyous howling of his would-be pack over the sounds of his own screaming and wondered if that meant they could tell it was working, if the danger had passed. He tried to ignore what was happening inside him and concentrate on the rumbling of his mate’s purr against his back; a deep sound of protection and reassurance.

Every muscle in his body burned and throbbed; Will could imagine the blood of his pack slinking into every fiber of him, strengthening him, awakening his body’s natural ability to heal itself and amplifying it ten-fold. He’d never be able to heal as fast as a born wolf, but his life and vitality would be extended all the same. 

He tried to call out Hannibal’s name - to seek assurance or more contact, to voice how much pain he was in, ask how much longer he needed to endure - but all that came out was a snarl.

Reality coalesced around him like a fog breaking to show the scarlet-red light of dawn, which seemed fitting as he took in the rapidly growing pool of blood beneath his palms, hands that he now noticed were fully clawed and covered in a silver-grey fur. He didn’t panic at the sight - Hannibal had told him there would be more than a little blood shed as his body adapted. It flowed sluggishly from the mating bite on his neck, spilled from his mouth as his fierce new teeth punctured his gums. He could feel the sting of Hannibal’s claw marks along his flanks and knew that he bled there as well.

As he took in his surroundings, he knew he was seeing things with new eyes, his vision crisp, clearer than it had ever been, even in the darkened forest. He wondered if they had yet to turn into the crystalline blue of the Omega wolf, with an iris framed by a gilded, golden halo. 

He could see his pack all around them, still a respectful distance away from the tied mated pair, all of them fully shifted. It was only then that he felt fur sliding against his own, knew that his Alpha had shifted as well. He could so clearly see Hannibal’s sleek black fur in his mind, black as the blood around them under the autumn moonlight.

 _Mate,_ he heard in his mind more than out loud, the rumbling growls of his mate sounding on the bone-cold air around them, his words seeping into Will’s consciousness like honey. He knew the pack shared a sort of telepathy, not necessarily able to share full thoughts, but able to send out impressions and feelings. 

It was different for bond-mates. Will and Hannibal would be able to speak in either form, would always know where the other was and how they were feeling. Connected to each other with a depth and breadth that humans could never fathom. Combined with Will’s empathy, it was the most intimate experience of his life; being tied to his mate and able to hear him in his mind, being able to share his own thoughts, Will had never felt so complete. 

_Alpha_ , he projected the thought to Hannibal, let out a low growl of pleasure as Hannibal fucked him harder on his already formed knot, letting it shift almost painfully inside of Will, rubbing along his walls and pressing against his prostate, causing his own cock to stir again between his legs in pain-laced pleasure. 

He marveled at the feel of his own knot, no longer the hard, fake silicon of the cock sleeve he sometimes wore, but now warm, firm flesh that sat at the base of his shaft. 

He stretched as much as he was able in their position, feeling new muscle and sinew flex and shift at the motion. He had survived the transition, had mated his Alpha and gained the role of pack Omega all in one night. But he wanted _more_ , longed to _hunt_ with his new pack, to solidify their connection and his role. 

He moved his body back against Hannibal’s slow thrusts, the wolf still shifting his knot inside of Will. They fucked like that for several long moments, his entire body alight with pleasure as he finally spilled again onto the ground below them, his knot aching at a lack of pressure to join his orgasm, and Hannibal’s knot finally deflated a few seconds later. 

A chorus of howls filled the night, the fur at Will’s neck standing up as he felt the pull in his own chest, the howl rising up out of his throat effortlessly, an instinct that couldn’t be suppressed. He heard Hannibal join them, celebratory and full of joy. 

Will didn’t waste any time, he knew his new packmates would want to run with him, to hunt with him, and he still had a mate to finish claiming. He turned on Hannibal with a speed he would need to grow accustomed to, the world blurring by as he toppled his mate to the ground and fit his teeth to his furry neck, biting down with new teeth, far sharper than his human ones had been, and claimed his Alpha with a mating bite of his own. 

The howling intensified, accompanied by Hannibal’s pleased, rumbling growls at being pinned beneath his Omega. Will gulped down heavy mouthfuls of his mate’s blood, his mouth filled with the salted-sweet taste, so much richer than blood had ever tasted as a human. He knew he must look ghastly, his muzzle covered in copper, but even in his wolf form, Hannibal’s red eyes glowed with adoration and regard as he watched Will drink his fill. 

He felt it, then; Hannibal’s consciousness fully melding with his own, their pleasure shared. Their every desire, every emotion open to the other. As their bond snapped into place, the howling intensified, all of his new pack circling closer, tails wagging and bodies shuffling with their exuberance and joy. When he stepped back to allow Hannibal up, the Alpha twisted to his feet with incredible speed and agility and nuzzled into Will, lapping at the blood that coated his muzzle.

The eldest wolf in their pack approached first, bending forward on his paws to show respect. Will stepped closer, sniffing at the other wolf, licking his ears and rubbing their faces together. The others followed after with ritualistic deference; offering their fealty to Will and allowing him to scent-mark his pack, taking their individual smells onto the roof of his mouth and storing them in his memory. He would know them each by scent alone for the rest of their long lives. 

_Hunt,_ he thought, and though Hannibal alone could hear the word, Will pushed his desire to run and stalk and _kill_ to the rest of his pack. A chorus of eager snarls and snaps was returned, and for one long moment everything went perfectly still and silent as Hannibal tipped his head back and let loose an ear-splitting, bloodthirsty howl. 

It was the kind of sound that would have sent a shiver of terror down Will’s spine if he’d been out in the woods as a human. Now, it set his blood pumping, mouth salivating and jaw _aching_ to tear into flesh. It was signal enough for the pack, the lot of them tearing off into the trees, chasing the scent of their prey long-since released. While the shared hunt was part of the tradition of welcoming a new pack member, the ritual that came before it was not for human eyes; only the Autumn moon and the Bayou around them bore witness to the event, the cypress standing as silent sentinels around them. They had let the man run off into the woods before the ceremony started, unconcerned about him finding help or a way out before they tracked him down. _Hannibal’s pack_ was the only way out of the woods. Will’s pack, now.

Will and Hannibal alone stayed back for the moment, letting the excited yips and snarls fade away as they stood in the moonlight-soaked clearing and stared at each other. Will could feel the pride pouring off of his mate, felt drunk with his euphoria. He stepped forward to nuzzle against his mate once more, lapped at the bloody mark on his neck.

 _Happy,_ Will sighed in his own mind, and Hannibal purred in agreement as he lapped at Will’s mating bite in turn.

 _Hunt,_ Hannibal reminded him. _Kill, blood, beautiful mate._

Will whined as a predatory anticipation flooded through him, set his limbs moving as the instinct to track drove his body, Hannibal matching him leap for leap right by his side. They could smell where their pack had roamed before them, and kept to the outer edge, circling around. They weren’t concerned about the pack finding their prey without them; at most they would corral the abhorrent man, take pleasure in frightening him until Hannibal and Will could arrive to end him, to take the first mouthfuls of flesh as was tradition.

He never could have imagined how freeing it would be to bound through the trees on four limbs, fast and agile, the earth yielding to his claws as he ripped his way through the forest. Will had been a wolf for less than ten minutes, and already he was certain that running was his favorite thing.

Their pack’s excited howls split the night, followed by a terrified cry from a human throat. As one, Will and Hannibal shifted course and followed the sounds deeper into the cypress trees that pressed in all around them. 

Another howl sounded from their right, one of the wolves already having gained on their prey. They followed the acrid stench of fear on the damp air, filling Will’s newly heightened senses to an almost unbearable degree. Before long, they were met with the snarls and snapping jaws of their pack, circled around the man that had brought Will and Hannibal together.

It was _his_ land one of the pups had stumbled onto when scouting out hunting grounds, _his_ brash intolerance that called in the police to press trespassing charges despite the young man insisting it was a mistake and apologizing profusely. Hannibal had arrived at the same time as Will, declaring himself the boy’s guardian and explaining that they were new to the area and admitted to getting a bit turned around in the woods. 

Between the two of them - Hannibal’s unerring propriety and Will’s insistence that moving forward with legal action would cause the man more trouble than anything - they convinced Mr. Wilkins to end the evening amicably with a stern warning to the youth to pay better attention to signs indicating private land.

Hannibal had asked to cook dinner for Will, to thank him for his assistance in defusing the situation and Will had bashfully agreed. He only found out much later, when they were discussing targets to sacrifice as their prey for this ritual, that Hannibal had been curious about Wilkins’ overreaction to a stranger accidentally encroaching upon his land and, after a time of careful surveillance of the property, determined the man was the one responsible for the growing number of missing women in the area. Will was more than happy to agree upon Wilkins as their selection after hearing that and spent the next week of their preparations dreaming of ripping the vile man’s throat out.

The circle of wolves parted for them as they approached, allowing them to the center where the terrified man had his back pressed against a tree and seemed to be considering if he had the time or strength to climb it, wide, wild eyes darting up to map out the branches above his head in-between jerking from Hannibal to Will and back again.

“D-Don’t!” Wilkins tried to make his voice loud, filled with authority he obviously knew he didn’t possess. He jerked his arms up above his head and straightened his shaking spine, trying to make himself appear bigger. “Go away!” he yelled, but his voice cracked when Hannibal took one measured pace toward him.

The wolves couldn’t laugh, not in their current form, but Will felt their amusement wash over him like it was his own. Their Alpha didn’t obey the desperate pleas of the damned, wouldn’t be stayed or swayed by the man’s cries. 

_Kill_ Will thought, projected it out to his mate, to their pack, and felt it reverberated back at him by all those gathered. He prowled along the other side, boxing in their prey on all sides. 

It was over far more quickly for Mr. Wilkins than it had been for the countless women he’d kidnapped and murdered. And his body wouldn’t join theirs on his property, would instead go to good use filling the bellies of the pack, his bones tossed out for the gators to pick clean. 

Will leaped at the same time Hannibal did, landing silently on graceful paws seconds before his jaw opened wide and he sank his teeth into the sobbing man’s neck, his screams turning bloodied and thick as his esophagus was torn apart. 

Hannibal’s fangs pierced him from the other side, and with a sharp _jerk_ of their heads, they silenced Mr. Wilkins for good, his neck snapping at an unnatural angle as they lapped at his thickly pumping blood, some of the meat slipping easily down Will’s throat. 

The meat was bitterly acidic; like citrus left too long to rot, saccharine blood following it down. Will looked up at his mate over their shared kill, saw his muzzle covered in blood, teeth stained almost black with it in the moonlight, fur matted and filthy. 

He had, perhaps, never loved him more. Never wanted him more fervently. 

Hannibal’s own arousal slammed into him the moment their eyes met, and Will could hardly believe that, even with the both of them having found release multiple times less than thirty minutes previous, he felt himself stir with need. The growl that erupted from Hannibal only incensed Will further, not a sound borne of agitation or bloodlust, but one Will was already quickly associating with _desire_ and _virility_.

He backed away from his mate, barely able to release a howl that would encourage his pack to feast upon their prey before Hannibal was on him, snarling and snapping in his attempts to get Will beneath him. Will slipped away at the last moment, a thrill of giddiness fluttering through him as he trusted his new body’s instincts and was rewarded for doing so.

He tore off through the trees, Hannibal hot on his heels, leaving behind the rest of the pack to feast to their hearts’ content in lieu of finding a spot with a bit more privacy. It wasn’t that Will was ashamed to join with his Alpha in front of the others - those insecurities had long since fled from him as he had been schooled, even as a human, on just what it meant to be part of a pack.

But this moment was different. This was the first moment in his long, lonesome life that Will actually felt complete. Like he belonged to _himself_ just as much as he belonged to Hannibal. And with the meat of their prey in their bellies and its blood upon their fur, Will wanted to take this moment with Hannibal alone, wanted no other eyes to see them in this rare and beautiful moment, impossibly complete.

Hannibal let out a warning growl before he was pinning Will to the ground, his teeth in the thick hide of Will’s neck. He didn’t bite down enough to harm, but he did draw blood, more of it pouring from the wound to tangle into Will’s fur and to stain Hannibal’s teeth and jaw. Will didn’t stay pinned for long, claiming his own piece of Hannibal as he got his mate underneath him and licked at his muzzle, taking in their combined essence and that of their victim. Their first hunt together. Their first kill as mates. 

Will whimpered, his animal brain going a bit hazy with the need to mate, to breed. He didn’t need to flounder long, Hannibal getting out from under him with a quickness that was nearly preternatural, even for wolves. He had Will pressed chest down to the earth below them before Will could even think to struggle, mounting him with a fervor that rivaled the thrill and zeal of their hunt. 

Hannibal’s cock rutted between his thighs, his wolf far less coordinated than his human form. Suddenly, Will found he wanted to feel Hannibal’s arms wrapped around him, to feel the warmth of his furred-chest - his human chest - pressed tight to the skin of his own back. 

Nearly as soon as he’d thought it, he could feel the tingling of his body shifting, the pain excruciating for only a moment before he was left gasping, covered in blood and the detritus of the Bayou, still on his hands and knees below his mate. Hannibal’s cock finally slid into him while he was still in his wolf form, but his Alpha shifted quickly enough, not stalling in his thrusts even as he shed his fur and returned to his human skin. 

Will was panting with it within minutes, their bodies slamming together in their need, Will’s hips working to meet each of Hannibal’s thrusts in time. He could feel his orgasm building, spreading throughout his entire body as he was filled with an indescribable pleasure, a feeling of completeness at being so thoroughly taken by his Alpha, by his mate. 

He spilled his desire in pearlescent ropes across the leaf-strewn ground beneath him, his fingers digging into the rich, fragrant soil even as Hannibal’s teeth found his neck again, nipping at his bond mark. 

“Mine,” the Alpha snarled into Will’s nape, and then he was coming, filling Will with a flood of his warm seed, enough that he could feel it spilling out around Hannibal’s cock where it twitched inside of him. 

Will’s limbs buckled, his body’s exhaustion from the ritual and subsequent hunt finally catching up to him, even as his mind raced to catch up to the events of the evening. He wasn’t dead, and he was _Hannibal’s_. He had a pack now, a place that he belonged; a family that wouldn’t damn him for the morbid curiosity and bloodlust that he had fought to quell his entire life. 

He had a mate that would stay by his side for the long years to come and he’d discovered his future, all by the light of a pale, full moon.

“Yours,” Will agreed easily with a soft sigh. Even in his human form, he felt a purr rumbling in his chest as Hannibal nuzzled and licked at the mating bite on his neck, still bleeding sluggishly. “Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> If you enjoy our collaborative works you should follow us on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/BellaRaiWrites) and [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/bellaraiwrites) for all sorts of extra content and teasers!
> 
> We also have a [Discord server](https://discord.gg/jhdDeAn) where you can chat with us, throw us prompts, and post images/art inspired by our work! You may also catch a snippet or two of some WIPs!
> 
> 'Til next time! 💚💜 BellaRai


End file.
